Ugly Mind
by ClosetCynicist
Summary: A 1000 years ago, the people began to realise that a small percentage of the population were beginning to develop... powers. Deadly strength that allowed them to kill on a whim. Who can survive the onslaught of minds?


**Set roughly 1000 years before Shinsekai Yori. Enjoy 873 words of very little :)**

Carter couldn't help himself. The nightmares would definitely come back stronger, but he found himself drawn to the story playing out on the news, behind the safety of the small screen.

"In a continuing string of brutal murders in Tafast, two more bodies were discovered yesterday in a residence at the corner of 3rd street. Preliminary investigations have revealed the cause of death to be violent build-up of pressure inside the victims' bodies, leaving investigators clueless as to the cause of the deaths. Police are advising that all residents secure all doors and windows at night, and keep alert, as the murderer is still at large..."

He shuddered. The vicious attacks had been scaring the entire neighbourhood recently. 14 people died in just 2 weeks of bloody massacres, leaving the town on edge and even prompting some to claim that a curse was at work

Of course, Carter didn't care much for curses. No, all he cared about was his nightly visions of a dark figure, wreathed in the very essence of death itself, which stalked his dreams. Some small part of him, though, knew that the mysterious figure, could only be the very same murderer that slaughtered without abandon.

"Carter, dear, go to sleep now please," his mother called from her spot on the sofa.

"I want to watch the news." _No. I don't want to close my eyes_.

"Carter, you have school tomorrow. You need to get an early night. Look, even your father's asleep" She gestured pointedly at the man sprawled haphazardly in his armchair, sound asleep after a long day of his sitting-at-a-desk-typing-some-things job. Carter honestly didn't know what his father did for a living, even after 12 years of relying on the money he brought in. Whenever, he asked, and not often mind you, his father always seemed to get distracted by something incredibly uninteresting, and changed the topic to whatever new object captured his peculiar attention. Eventually Carter concluded that either the man was a super spy, or completely deranged. Probably the latter.

He reluctantly trudged up the stairs, never one to argue with his parents on anything. Even bedtime. Especially bedtime. They really, really wanted him to get that 8 hours of sleep. Dammit bedtime.

-x-

The darkness was oppressive. It wrapped around, suffocated him, making it an effort to just suck in the stale air. But no matter how his lungs screamed, no matter how much his legs told him to stop, he couldn't. Not until he outran the patch of darker black, the most despairing despair that hung barely a few metres behind. He ran, and ran, and ran and ran and ran, running not just for life, but for fear. In the heat of pursuit, you don't care whether you survive or not. It's not any survival instinct or desire to live that keeps you going. Just fear. And this engine fuelled by terror just kept driving Carter on, in a race impossible to win.

And he tripped. Of course he tripped. He had to trip. When was there a horror story in which the protagonist didn't trip? And it found him. It sort of hovered just beside his body, his body paralysed by the very same thing that fuelled his desperate escape. Carter felt that cold touch of fingers - no - digits pressing against his back. Felt them press, harder and harder and HARDER until he could feel the cold tips sink into his flesh and felt the blood soaking his clothes the screams of pain did nothing and agony and pain so much PAIN.

Carter woke up screaming. But he could hear, still, the figure gliding up the stairs, closing in on its quarry. Only this time, it wasn't a nightmare. The fear felt so real, the blood soaking his shirt still felt sticky and damp. The thick, suffocating smell of the sanguine fluid was intoxicating, heightening his every sense and multiplying his fear to astronomical proportions. The blood was fear itself, the very spilled essence of himself, a sign of death so unavoidable it already manifested into reality.

The figure flung the door open, a simple shadow of pure darkness, silhouetted by the blinding light just beyond the boundaries of his room. Carter seized up, fear taking over every faculty of his brain, completely wiping out every other thought. The figure seemed to pause in the doorway, almost as if contemplating how best to destroy his victim's puny life. Carter couldn't bear it, the pain, the fear, the sheer agony, everything, he let loose in a single animalistic scream.

"GET OUT!"

The figure did. Very fast. Very very fast. There was suddenly a lot of red and pink splashed across the hallway, the aromatic liquid completely intoxicating. Carter retched onto his bed, thoughts barely even coherent. All he could think about was the blood, soaking into the walls of his room, colouring everything with its evil scarlet. He didn't even notice the room furniture picking itself up, moving as if possessed. Neither did he notice the piercing shriek from someone outside, nor the sudden pin drop silence as a desk table collided with something soft.

Carter gathered his puke-soaked sheets around himself, hugging himself as a hard as it took to dispel this nightmare.

**A/N: So, I'm not sure how to really continue this story. I decided to upload this little intro anyways, and hopefully people could help suggest a continuation. Also, it's very loosely based on what could have happened 1000 years before the show's events, so I don't mind letting the story wander in very unexpected directions, but at least I hope it could tie up with what happens in the actual anime. Thanks anyways if you actually bothered to read this little bit, and hopefully you can help me. *Pwease* *Bunny ears***


End file.
